Passing through a land of gold and silver kind,
a sound rang out and echoed the corridors of my mind,
unknown music of a sound so hard to tell
like heavenly bells made from immortal shells.
In gross and laden travels of lands near and far,
this sound gave new dimensions as though another star,
in fevered dreams of music by hill and dell,
none can sound like heavenly bells of immortal shells.
From knowledge gained in many journeys of life and love,
with strength universal as the cosmos above,
my mind still succumbed to this witches spell,
of heavenly bells made from immortal shells.
A life old on the road, an age in years of mere youth,
both snared with my heart in search of truth,
the dulcet tones ring on with never a start,
unusual music strikes notes that drift apart.
For that which is left of this travelling life,
my quest for the secret remains in questions rife,
but to my life's end I can always tell,
of this beautiful sensation from the sound of a bell.
Richard Allen Beevor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/heavenly-bells-immortal-shells/
